The Sickness
by Geffrie Ingrim
Summary: Hermione finds herself in a huge problem that she doesn't know how she got into. How can she be having a baby if she's never been involved with a man?
1. Daydreams

"The Sickness"

_This cannot be happening to me. _she thought._How could this happen to me?_ Tears were now streaming down her face with confusion and disbelief buzzing in her head. Hermione Granger sat in the corner of the darkened dormitory stifling her sobs in fear of waking any of the other sixth year Gryffindor girls. Hermoine racked her brain for reasons for why this could be happening, all the while clutching a muggle home pregnancy test. After hours of crying, she finally passed out on the floor, the pink little box tucked safely beneath her.

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"Ah, isn't this the perfect sort of day to play some Quidditch?" said Hermione in an cheerful tone. It was rather the perfect day. The sky was a never ending sea of blue with only slight interruptions of smoky stratus clouds. There was a slight breeze to relieve them of the heat and the sun shone mercifully.

"You don't have to try so hard. We all know you don't know or care much about the sport." The left side of Ron's face pinched together as he gave Hermione an amused grin.

Hermione bent her head down in shame. Harry had already went to the Weasleys' outhouse, being used as a broom shed, to retrieve the needed items to begin the game. She and Ron were drifting in the open lawn of the Burrow. Harmione was feeling a little sheepish considering that they were alone. After some hard prodding by Ginny insisting she had a crush on some poor soul, Harmione had realized that she oddly enough had feelings of attraction towards her best mate. _Hopefully future mate._ she thought with a giggle and daydreams clouded her vision enough not to notice Ron had stopped meandering to stare at her.

"Oy. What you doin' there?"

Hermione whipped around to see him clearly. She was so embarrassed. She could not believe that Ron had caught her envisaging their wedding day, and their impending honeymoon.

"Oh, um--" but she was cut off by the arrival of Harry and four broom sticks with Ginny trailing behind him with ancient battered balls.

There was no doubt that the two had gotten together over the past two weeks. They went and did everything together now. Eat, talk, breath, snog, not breath while snogging, but thankfully they weren't sleeping together. Mrs. Weasley would have a fit, possibly a heart attack, if she knew her little girl was snogging boys in her bedroom in secret right under her nose. God forbid her angel would be tied up in boys. Mrs. Weasley was quite oblivious to the recent coziness of the two, probably due to the fact that the Order had been calling for more meetings and home security had been heightened because of the campaigns of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Well, we're just even now but low on players. We'll just play two on two then, shall we? I'll be with Harry." Ginny gave Harry a wink and a smile, part of this complete dating sequence. Ron rolled his eyes and looked away as Ginny moved closer to Harry. Hermione was feeling a little apprehensive but excited all the same to be paired with Ron.

They had played for two hours before the mother Weasley's voice rang out with such force that it was unmistakably magic to announce that it was time for a spot of lunch. The four gave no objection. All were exhausted and famished. Hermione even managed a cut on her left arm, Harry's hair was as wild as ever, and both Ron and Ginny were filthy with dirt. They trudged indoors, to Mrs. Weasley's dismay, all the while tracking dirt and God knows what else into her newly cleaned home.

"OUT!" she yelled at the sight of her floors. When they reached the water basin and pump just past the kitchen window, Mrs. Wealey threw some rags and soap at them. A rag had attacked Ron in the face while the soap bar conked Harry in the back of the head. Both girls were suppressing violent giggles.

Ginny quickly went over to Harry to console him. She even went as far as kissing the bruise. _Now this is getting ridiculous_. Hermione thought. _Well, as long as their having fun. _The four of them washed up. There had been a lot of horse play so it had taken them longer to reach the dining table for they all had to change their sopping wet cloths.

"Hermione, can I talk with you?" Ron was standing at the top of the stairs looking down towards Hermione. She looked at Harry and Ginny who were halfway down already. Harry continued and Ginny gave Hermione a shrug. _Was that a smirk? _Hermione thought as Ginny turned to follow Harry.

She slowly went back up wondering what it is that Ron wanted to talk about. She let her mind drift into the surprising territory of confessions of love and elopement. She couldn't help but smile. Though she had just realized she fancied him, she couldn't let go of the fantasy of marriage. This was new territory for Hermione. Hadn't it had always been her who had disaproved of romantic relations between her mates and other seas of raging hormones of the opposite sex? She couldn't believe how active her mind has been due to the new awareness.

"'Mione? What's with you lately?" Hermione finally made it up the stairs to find a very perplexed Ron looking at her inquiringly. She couldn't help but feel embarrassed again. She was going to have to stay alert when he was around.

"Oh? Er, just thinking. W-what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

He pulled her into the next room, only occupied by a grumpy Crookshanks who had been slumbering quite peacefully before his room was invadedby noisy teenagers. Hermione's heart began to pound. What if it was what she was thinking? What if he wanted to be romantically involved with her? Her mind raced while she fought to keep control.

"What do you think she's getting at?"

"Huh?" Ron's voice brought her back to reality. This wasn't about her. How could she be so selfish? Of course he wouldn't want to talk about the two of them. She didn't even know if he liked her in that manner.

"You see what she's doin', yeah? It's disgusting! We're under our parents' roof for God's sake!"

Having finally realized what he was talking about, Hermione thought it wise to respond.

"Well, she really seems to like him and he her. What's the big deal? It's not like their…procreating. Right?"

"That's doesn't excuse her behavior. 'Sides, Harry never liked her liked her. You know? We know she had a mad crush on him in second year, but she got over it! What are they playing at?"

"Well, I don't know. Ginny didn't tell me anything. I thought it was sincere."

"Sincere my arse. She, or the both of them, are up to something. We should figure it out. You know, spy a little. Maybe I could get a hold of Harry's sneek-o-scope. And…"

"What if they really do like each other and you ruin it for them?"

"Psht." It almost looked like a shower of spit flew out of his mouth. Hermione wanted to laugh but refrained in the presence of a very serious Ronald Weasley. "Well, I'm getting to the bottom of this, with your help or not."

Ron turned to walk out of the room but hesitated at the door. He looked back at Hermione; she had just lowered herself to the bed.

"Oh, and I was thinking maybe we could go together if you fancied me." And with that he was out the door on his way to lunch leaving behind grumpy Crookshanks and shocked Hermione.


	2. Confessions

"The Sickness"

The darkness of night was pressing even further upon the illuminated windows of the Weasley home. Mist began to formulate above the ground. It almost seemed unnatural. Unnatural for it being late June. There was a chill in the air; a bone aching chill. This sudden cold seemed to consume and breed upon the warmth and happiness that was once the essence of the summer, leaving it's enjoyers miserable and forlorn.

As she quickly trotted across the bedroom floor as to out run the cold, Hermione contemplated how to react to the situation at hand. It had disturbed her how Ron had so casually proposed romantic involvement. She couldn't think of a time he had shown any interest in her of that sort. Though there was that time in fourth year when it appeared he had been jealous of Viktor Krum, but then again he had always seemed the jealous type.

Deep in thought, she sat on the bed across from a smug looking Ginny. The freckled redhead watched Hermione, distracted by thoughts unknown to others but herself, curl up beneath the sheets against the frigid air. She had been so preoccupied that she did not even notice Ginny's hungry eyes.

"So…" she began the conversation.

"Yes?" said Hermione a little annoyed for being pried from her contemplations.

"Oh, just thinking what Ron had to say." Ginny commented nonchalantly.

All of Hermione's senses had heightened. _She knows something_. Hermione thought it best to play out the discussion seeing where it led.

Lazily she continued the converse, "Oh, you know. Little things. Nothing of any grave importance." She ended it with a slight shrug of her shoulder.

Ginny looked a little put out and rolled over so she was facing the ceiling.

Seeing as how much this bothered her, Hermione continued, "Why? It's not like you to be interested in matters of your brother."

"It's just that…it's just…I thought he was going to mention something he talked to me about."

"Like what?"

"Oh, something."

"Oh come on. Don't play that. Out with it."

"OK! He's fancied you for a while now. That's why I asked you who you liked. Seeing as you liked him too I decided to play matchmaker, OK? I knew my brother was a loser and never had the courage to pair up with any girl, so I helped him along. Happy now? "

"Very."

"Wha-?" Ginny seemed confused.

"He wanted to know if we could go together."

"REALLY!" she said with a squeal. It was apparent that she could hardly contain herself. "So, what are you going to tell him?"

"I'm not sure yet." Hermione said with some vacancy.

"What! You have to! I worked so hard!…" by this time she began to prattle on about wasted work, scheming, and Harry under her breath.

"What about Harry?" Hermione asked; attacking the first proposal of the exchange with Ron.

"Oh, well, about that. See, don't be angry, but the only reason he and I were all lovey dovey was to get Ron to ask you out. We're not really involved. We don't really snog in my room during the day. It was another way of forcing you two together."

"Well, thanks." Hermione dropped sarcastically.

"I think you should. After all, you both like each other, right? Try him out like a shoe and if he doesn't fit, try another."

Hermione staired at her ginger friend. This was the kind of comment she could expect from a girl who has had her share of boyfriends. It was hard to miss the fact that Ginny was quite popular with the boys, much to the other Weasley brothers' dismay to see their baby sister fraternize with developing young men whose agendas were not always easy to read.

"Well, it's just a thought."

And with that Ginny had ended the intercourse with turning out the light and turning her back on Hermione, left in the same state she was before the little engagement: _Boyfriend or no boyfriend?_


	3. Firsts

"The Sickness"

With some annoyance caused by Harry, with his little obsession of convincing her and Ron Malyfoy was a Death Eater, and the first years running a muck, Hermione patrolled the corridors of the Hogwarts Express, her prefect badge gleaming with a joy and an enthusiasm that eluded her. It had been a few days already since the three of them had ran into Malfoy and his mother in Diagon Alley, but that was all he could talk about now. He had a right to suspect the slime ball for disappearing into Knockturn Alley and threatening an oily clerk with a visit from a dangerous werewolf, yet Harry had failed in his persuasion. Malfoy is only 16. What good could he be to Voldemort?

"Hey, don't be so down. I thought you liked school." Ron was smiling at her while holding a first year by the scruff of the neck to keep him from attacking another.

"Oh, I'm happy to be coming back, if that's what you mean. It's just, Harry's been a little engrossed in the idea that Malfoy is a Death Eater."

"Well, let him have his fun. You know he's never going to stop before he finds out for himself."

"Yeah, I know that. I just don't want to hear about it all the time."

Ron gave a chortle and drew her into a one armed hug, still restraining the brutish underclassman. Hermione could feel is warmth spreading and intoxicating her body. _Since when have hugs been so exhilarating?_ she thought. She wanted to stand there with him for hours on end, but was soon interrupted by a passing group of snickering fourth year girls. Ron quickly withdrew his arm looking embarrassed.

"Er, well, um…." he mumbled.

"Yes, right, uh…." Hermione replied stupidly.

They pretended nothing had happened. After all they had to coincide with their plan. They were going to keep their relationship a secret. So often were reputations muddled and destroyed for doing what mere couples do. Ginny was a lucky one, her popularity and personality out shone her involvement with boys, no matter how horrible they were, specifically the more recent Dean Thomas whose arrogance and excessive use of the word "cool" should have been reasons enough to drop him.

It was a few hours later when Ron and Hermione were on their way to the Great Hall for the ceremony. As she was turning into the Hall, Ron had taken hold of her left arm, dragging her into a deserted corridor. When it was for certain that they were alone he began.

"Are you sure you don't want to be open? I don't care. 'S long as I'm with you. I don't want you to feel obligated."

Hermione thought a bit before saying: "Sorry, Ron. I don't think I could face Parvati or Lavender. 'Specially together." She gave him a look that conveyed apology, shame, and guilt. She didn't want to ruin what they had just established. She wanted him to understand. He was her first boyfriend. She wanted to make this last.

Ron merely gave her a nod of comprehension. He took her hand and led her back to the Hall. Releasing their hands, he ushered her in before the first years strode along led by Professor McGonagall to be sorted. They took their seats at the Gryffindor table. _Where is Harry?_ Hermione thought. But her thoughts of Harry soon evaporated. Ron had taken her hand in his beneath the grand oak table. She almost melted. Their interlaced fingers sent explosions of endorphins throughout her entire body. The feast passed in a colorful blur. That is until Harry walked in, covered in blood. The dark figure of Snape followed in behind him. Harry forced himself between the two of them.

"Where've you -- blimey, what've you done to your face?" Ron was staring at him along with the rest of the school.

Hermione quickly cleaned him up and they talked a little while tucking into some pudding. Hermione was deeply disturbed. _What happened to him?_ Also bothered by the news of Snape being the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. After Dumbledore had given his speech they were dismissed.

The next day her pity for Harry was quickly slipping away as he went on to tell her and Ron what he had overheard Malfoy discuss on the train. She knew he was nosey, but to sneak into a compartment full of Slytherins who hated him so? He was down right reckless at times. He was asking for trouble.

They were given their schedules by McGonagall and left for their classes. Hermione was given so much homework for Runes that she could feel the pressure of the year increasing upon herfrom the first day. It didn't help that Harry was out doing her in Potions either. Hermione was beginning to develop a loathing and wariness of the Half-Blood Prince's tattered Potions book. It had been a few weeks of Harry in the spot light before he had his first private lesson with Dumbledore. Meaning she and Ron were alone.

Ron was snuggling up close to her in the deserted common room as they waited for Harry's return. Hermione was working on a very difficult essay for Snape. Her distaste for her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was growing with every lesson and assignment.

"Oh, not now, Ron. I'm busy!" she snapped at him.

"We haven't had some time alone for a while now. Can you blame me for trying to get close? You can do that stupid thing another time."

"What? During the free time we have? You know that it's not going to be just a lie down when we have that time. We need that to study. Our N.E.W.T.S. will be coming up soon! I won't have time to finish it then. And you could do with some studying."

"Fine!" he huffed as he got up. With his lips pursed together he inclined his head indicating "Good Night" and stormed off towards the boys dormitory.

At the site of his back, she had felt a pang of regret. _I'm sorry._ she thought. Her moment of guilt, however, was soon over taken by anger. How could he not understand?


	4. Jealousy

"The Sickness"

A few more weeks had passed after the couple's first argument and were still not on good terms. Hermione began to fear that this was the end of their brief affair. On some occasions she could have sworn she had seen Ron make eyes at Lavender Brown, another perky Gryffindor sixth year. This had thoroughly infuriated Hermione. Her last chance, as she felt, to get him back was to make him jealous. She had began warming up to Harry. She did it subtly as to not let Harry to catch on; just enough to get Ron a little heated. Though not to the point of breaking up. She just wanted him to pay more attention to her.

Try outs for the Gryffindor Quidditch team were to be held today. Harry was feeling a little down, for he thought he wouldn't make a good captain and he couldn't see why the team was a little more popular this year. This was preposterous. _He's the best damn Seeker this school has seen in ages._ Hermione thought. To cheer up her chum and stir up Ron, Hermione began to illuminate all of the wondrous things Harry had done. If he could do those things, he could easily be a grand Quidditch captain, and she laid it on thick.

"_And _you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway…"

To her pleasure and surprise, Ron had cued in, "You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," while pulling back his sleeves, exposing his pale arms.

Playing a little further, Hermione strategically stated, "And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," pretending toignore Ron's comment.

"I'm tall," he finished.

This had sprouted a new hope in Hermione's heart. She must have been imagining the looks he gave Lavender. _He's not a girl-crazy bastard. _Her disposition was improved even further when the post owls had arrived. Harry's new potions book had been set before him by his beautiful snowy owl, Hedwig. But that soon changed. Harry had switched the covers of the new and old books. Hermione didn't want to admit that she was jealous of Harry's find, but to tell the truth, she was really annoyed Harry was Slughorn's top potion brewer. She could care less about Sluggy, but it just wasn't right for her not to be top of the class. Turning her irate thoughts to something else, Hermione had began to read the wizerding news paper that had been delivered to her.

After looking in the _Daily Prophet_ to see if anyone they knew died or been arrested (unfortunately Stan Shunpike was in custody; it was very plain to see he was more than likely put under an Unforgivable Curse), the three of them headed for the pitch. On their way they passed Parvati and Lavender, at the sight of which gave Ron a wide grin. _Just a trick of the eye._ she tried to convince herself. She attempted to look unconcerned but was only able to pull off a look of coldness. Just when the day seemed to be turning up.

There had been some terrible tryouts and annoyances from other houses before Ron took his position as Keeper on his Cleansweep Eleven. Hermione wanted to shout some words of encouragement but Lavender had beat her to it. She had sunk back into her seat not saying a word as a storm brewed in her chest, compressing her airways almost to the point of not being able to breathe. Despite her anger with Brown, Hermione was still excited to see Ron block wonderfully. Cormac McLaggen was going red in the face; growing ever more crimson with each saved penalty. He demanded another go from Harry but was refused. He had unknowingly been Confunded to fly the completely opposite direction of the oncoming Quaffle by Hermione. He had been saying nasty things about Ginny and Ron and she had figured if Ron had done well, he would be in better spirits for them to make up.

"Well done. You flew really well--"Harry strained. His voice was hoarse from all the yelling he had done.

"You did brilliantly, Ron!" Hermione put in, running towards her two best friends. She was enthused to see him smile at her for the first time in the past few weeks, even if it wasn't exactly directed at her. She gazed over her shoulder, satisfyingly to see a sulky Ms. Brown linked arm-in-arm with Parvati.

When a date was set for the first practice of the year, the friends strode to Hagrid's hut. Hermione's heart was so elated that she felt as though she were walking on the icy air. Her joy was spreading through her body as though she had just taken a large dose of Pepper Up in defense of the cold. The chilling drizzle that had plagued them the entire day had lifted. The sun was even making a feeble attempt to show itself.

What a perfect day. she thought as she ambled down the stony path with her best mates to visit another dear friend.


	5. Memories

"The Sickness"

It was late in the evening as Hermione crept along the deserted Halls of Hogwarts. She knew it was past hours but this was a situation of dire emergency: she had to find a bathroom, and quick! She hadn't known what had caused her bladder to swell so. Perhaps it was all the butterbeer she drank. There was very little alcohol in the drink and she thought it appropriate rather than a hard liquor. The stress of school work and handling a boyfriend was mounting. Almost to the point of alcoholism. She had felt ashamed, yes. If her parents could see her now. Their of age, in the wizarding world, daughter drinking her sorrows away. Lest be said, they would be none too proud. They raised her better than that. _Well, he shouldn't be such a git!_ Hermione thought, beginning to fire up. However, the more pressing matter of finding a bathroom that would be vacant and remain that way was occupying most of her thought than the nearly lost cause of understanding the mind of that proud prat. They had briefly made amends after the tryouts but that was soon spoiled by Ron's jealousy of her and Harry's invitations to the "Slug Club" parties and his realization of the demands lessons were intruding upon them. She began to reminisce as she made her way to the second floor bathroom of Moaning Myrtle. She knew no girl in her right mind would want to urinate there as a morose ghost girl continually cried and whined at you through the next stall.

She had remembered one particular day they had spent together. It was an exceptional day, considering the gloomy weather they were having. The ground was not as crisp and the sun shone brightly through the misty clouds, staining the sky a brilliant gold. The couple had basked in its glory while sitting on the shore of the lake, frost forming at the edges. The giant squid had made no visible movements, leaving the water's surface glassy as it reflected the sky. They had spent their entire Sunday together. They talked about their relationship. Ron had apologized for overreacting and she admitted she didn't have to snap at him. After that the air was clear, the two took a stroll around the grounds and found their way to the lake. Neither talked much at this point as they were simply enjoying each other's company. With the romantic scenery laid out before them, it was hard for their breath not to be taken away.

Ron had turned to his bushy haired companion and looked deep into her eyes. _I never want this to end._ she had thought. He had moved a little closer. She had obliged by leaning in. He had raised his hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his left thumb. Hermione lifted her arm to place her hand on the nape of his neck, the other was runningfingers through his soft hair. Both closed their eyes and anticipated the meeting of their lips. Those were the longest seconds of Hermione's young life, but her agonizing wait was soon rewarded by a searing kiss. It had felt better than anything she could think of. His warm gentle lips had sent waves of tingles surging throughout her body.

That was the most flawless day she had ever had the pleasure of living out, she began to think as she neared her destination. It was odd that she hadn't ran into any night patrollers yet, owing to the recent attack on Katie Bell. Hermione herself would still be I bed if her uncooperative bladder hadn't made such a fuss. Advancing on the girls bathroom, she heard voices.

"…harder than I thought. DAMN IT! I knew it wouldn't work. If it wasn't for her stupid friend, I could have still had a chance," said a boy's voice. In Hermione's half asleep state, she had been perplexed to hear the low voice of a male in an obviously female restroom. _Is this the men's room?_ It had not occurred to her that the owner of the voice was out of place, not her. She was further astonished to hear the second voice.

"You shouldn't blame yourself. You still have time. I know you can do it." Hermione was even more confused at the sound of a girl's voice. Both were familiar, yet in the darkness, Hermione's thinking was severely restrained.

Not really thinking before hand, Hermione fluttered into the room where two people, rather, one shadowy person and a misty figure, clearly hadn't anticipated on being disturbed by a midnight visitor. It hadn't taken long for Hermione's eyes to adjust to the dim lighting being issued by the moon through the bathroom's high grimy windows, however, all she could make out were the silhouettes of what appeared to be a young man and a semi-transparent girl. Trying to see clearly and wake herself up, Hermione shook her head. She was trying to comprehend the scene before her.

"Malfoy? Myrtle?" she asked the room.

"What the Hell are you doin' here?" Malfoy began in a low rumble.

"What the Hell are _you_ doing here?" she replied. She had come to complete consciousness. Really, what the Hell was he doing a girls' lavatory?

"What did you hear?" He raised his voice, advancing on her with his wand at the ready.

Panicking, Hermione took slow steps backward. Fumbling, she finally let out a response, "N-n-nothing. I heard nothing." She groped her right thigh forgetting she hadn't any pockets for a wand to begin with. The wand was laying serenely in the right pocket of her school robes. All she was able to grab hold to was her plaid pajama bottoms.

"Right. You never hear, do you? You can't see. You never notice." At this Hermione was confused. Then again anyone would have been. _What is he going on about?_ she thought. Malfoy began to mutter under his breath. Taking advantage of his preoccupied murmuring, Hermione made a run for the door.

Too late! Malfoy had grabbed her arm to pull her closer to him. Hermione was shocked and relieved at his restraint from using magic. He leaned his face closer to hers. She cringed as she felt his hot breath wash over her.

"Where are you going, Hermione? You're not noticing again! And they say you're the top of our class? Pathetic. It's not just books you know. You have to read people. Observe your surroundings." His mouth had turned into a crooked and mad looking smile.

"M-Malfoy! P-please let me go!" she stuttered. Defenseless, Hermione saw no way out but to plead with her captor.

"No," he stated simply. "You don't know how long I've waited. Now I have you and I'm not letting you go."

Hermione grew ever fearful at these words. _What….what is he going to do to me….?_


	6. Terror & The Night

"The Sickness"

There were flashes of spells. Screams reverberated off the walls of the spacious lavatory. There was a sudden splash of water upon the two bodies. There was a _smack_ as a head landed on the floor, sending waves of pain through the owner's body. Her chest heaved as her breath quickened in sharp pains. She tried to lift her hands to fight off her oppressor, yet came of no avail. He had wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pinned her to the tiled floor. Both were sopping wet as he buried his face into her neck; her tears mingling with the water. She closed her eyes and screamed, trying to endure the pain of his penetration. As her crying grew more fierce, so did his thrusts. Then, all went dark.

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Hermione pushed herself off of her four-post bed. Her body ached with such force that all she could do was sink into her pillows. What had she done to make her ache so? She heard the stirring of the other girls in the dormitory. With a groan, she got out of bed and changed into her robes.

She slowly walked into the Common Room. There were some stragglers still that had yet to make their way to the Great Hall for a spot of breakfast. Frankly, Hermione wasn't hungry at all. She took this time to take a walk around the school. It wasn't very long but she soon found that it was more trouble than it was worth. On the seventh floor, a mousy looking first year had screamed at the sight of her and dropped her books. Hermione tried to help but the girl just ran off. Then on the third floor, Peeves attempted to drop a well of ink on her. Finally, she gave up and crept into the Great Hall.

Harry was acting a bit peculiar, more than likely because of his secret lesson with Dumbledore last night. Contemplating the night, Hermione couldn't remember what it was that she done. She was getting quite annoyed with herself, which didn't happen often. She racked her brain for all possible ideas. Thinking it a lost cause, she came to the conclusion that she had been studying too hard to remember anything else. Her mind must be filled to capacity.

After a nibble of toast, the three of them took flight to the green houses, where Harry brought to light the new information of Voldimort. It was quite interesting but she could not see how she could give it more thought.

Leaving Herbology, Hermione mulled over the thoughts of her and Ron. _Does he still like me? Of course he does. What if he likes Lavender more than me? Why would he?_ She seemed to have just successfully made Ron jealous, of McLaggen, no less. She couldn't wait for the "_Slug Club_" party. She had agreed to take him. _What would I wear? How will I do my hair?_ With her mind on nothing else, she could hardly notice the looming figure before her. There was a knocking of bodies as Hermione plowed into a very hard faced Malfoy.

"Oh, s-s-so sorry! My fault…" She looked up into his face with eyes filled with an inexplicable terror. Her entire body ceased itself, daring not to move nor breathe. She wanted to escape but there seemed no way out. All she could do was stare, wide eyed at the face of pure horror, as she fought to steady her heart. Ron was so far from her mind, that the mere thought of a hair on his head would have brought the utmost comfort, security, and relief.

Without a word, the pale Draco strutted past leaving the poor girl shaken and disturbed. _Oh, God. Oh, Dear God._ Hermione could not fathom the gripping trepidation that choked her so violently. It was Malfoy for God's sake. Who in their right mind would be afraid of that ferret? Yet, she did not want to experience that again.

She continued her day with a shaking fear of the unknown. She tried to calm herself. It seemed successful when neither Ron nor Harry noticed anything odd about her. All she could think about the rest of the day was Malfoy and the reason for the inexplicable dread of his presence. Malfoy was the last thing she thought of before dozing off in the late evening.

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It was dark on the second corridor. No living soul seemed to be stirring, beside a bushy haired woman clumsily drifting along the wall as she dragged a hand across the cold stone. A light came up ahead. A young, strapping man turned the corner. His wand was held at arm's length with a powerful grip. He had wavy brown hair and a glinting prefect badge on his chest. He was medium built but moved with a grace not coherent with his type.

"There you are…" said the girl lazily.

"Who…What are _you_ doing here?" The boy replied. He took her in, dumbfounded. This was not the young lady he knew. Her dress was sloppy, her tank-top sleeve fell below her shoulder nearly exposing her braless chest, and she moved with a drunken air though no alcohol could be detected. She seemed to be more like in a trance.

"Donn' make me cry…" she slurred. Advancing on him, she put out a hand to touch his broad chest.

"Wha…? Now, now. Get off. Whatthehellareyoudoing!" He couldn't believe it. She had began to kiss his neck and attempted to remove his robes with fumbling fingers.

"This is what you wanted. Isn't it? Isn't it, Malfoy? I'm just giving you what you want. Next time, don't take it. I'll be good. Just don't take it from me…" Tears glazed her brown saucers of eyes when she lifted her head to stare at the perplexed boy.

"But…Um…What? I'm not-" At this she began to softly sob into his breast. He could not help but feel pity for her. She was a relatively attractive girl; one he had seen on many occasion. His hormones flared as she continued her kissing.

"Don't hurt me." she whispered.

"I won't. I would never hurt you." And the two disappeared into an open classroom while their lips interlocked.


	7. Confessions and Debt

"The Sickness"

_Why is he doing this to me!_ Hermione thought angrily. _What is he mad about now?_ Ron had been especially cold to her this morning at breakfast. He refused to speak to her and treated her with a sneering indifference. Hermione was hurt and couldn't understand why he was doing this. It had seemed that their relationship had been on the rocks for a while now. Then again, today's unpleasantness may be due to Ron's and Harry's discovery of Dean and Ginny behind a tapestry. She was sure he would be touchy about his only baby sister engaging in such intimate acts with the disagreeable Dean Thomas. However, that gave him no right to take it out on her. Hemione sat at the Gryffindor table staring at an open book trying not to explode in Ron's face.

Across the hall, at the Ravenclaw table, a young prefect by the name of Alex Drury watched the distraught girl. He sat in the midst of his closest friends: Marcus Moon, a tall, gangly fellow with dirty blonde hair and numerous freckles who has nothing on his mind other than the opposite sex more than half the time, Devon Basil, the loud mouth of the group, always having something to say about anything, and reserved Geofery Ingram, a true Ravenclaw intellectual.

"What you starin' at Drury? Not 'Ermione Granger? She your galfriend? Or 'ave you just got the swell for 'er?" Devon snickered when he noticed his friend's interest in the girl across the way.

"Shut up!" Alex said threateningly.

"Oy, what the 'ell's up with you? I was just 'avin' a li'le fun. No reason to bite off me 'ead…" Devon looked a little put out and kept to his toast.

Moon had paid no attention to their clash over some silly girl. He was more interested in his latest drawing. He was sketching a crude picture of a vela carrying out profane acts with another vela which must be unfortunately transcribed. Moon had to smile as his drawings took shape. Geofery on the other hand was intreged by Alex's sudden interest in Granger.

"Really, what is up with you? You've been staring at her all morning. You never paid that much attention to her before."

Alex paused before answering, debating whether or not to tell them anything. "I…I…" he began. The other three leaned in to hear him better,even Moon wasbriefly affected by the direction of the conversation. "For the past few nights," whispered Drury, "I've been seeing her."

"What!" Devon nearly yelled.

"Shhhhhh!" Alex continued, "She always looms in the second floor corridor like a ghost. Like she's looking for something. I have to patrol that floor so I always bump into her. She…kind of…comes on to me…"

"Yeah, right. You may think otherwise, but you are _no_ ladies' man, Drury."

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Devon clamped his mouth shut to allow him to continue. "Thanks, anyway, she kind of comes on to me, but she thinks I'm someone else. She used to talk to me but now all she does is grope me and we end up…." Another pause.

"No way." Moon said wide-eyed and grinning. "You hit it every night? You wouldn't have guess what a slut she was by looking at her."

Alex jumped up and grabbed Moon by the throat.Moon's robes barely scraped the ground as heheld him high."Don't you dare talk about her that way!" Moon struggled to breathe until Geofery and Devon grabbed hold of Alex's arms. They pulled him back to a sitting position when they tried to deflect the stares of the other houses.

"Relax. He didn't mean it, now did you Moon? See? He doesn't think she's a slut. But back to the point, what the hell is going on?" Geofery gave Alex a concerned look.

"Well, I don't really know right now…It's…It's all so complicated. She…She thinks I'm Draco Malfoy. She used to ramble about taking something and not hurting her or whatever. I don't know. Then, in the morning, she acts like nothing happened."

"Hmm…" Moon, Devon, and Geofery sighed.

Hermione, on the other side of the Great Hall stared at the foursome along with the rest of the school wondering what they were talking about. What could they possibly be talking about that would make one attack the other? However, Hermione's attention was soon shifted back to the pressing fact that Ron was being an arse. Harry tried to keep the distance between the two but I was a difficult job and only led to unsuccessful efforts. The day passed with much tension in the air. It was almost as thick as the heavy mist outside. Finally, she departed for bed in the Gryffindor tower and Ron stormed off to the boy's dormitory after swearing at several first years for looking at him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late that evening. The moon hung high, illuminating all that would not want to be seen at night. Those that do not want to be seen, of course, have something to hide, as it was this night. A dark shadow loomed in the doorway of a cold brick cottage. There was no sign of life stirring in the home. Either way, occupants could easily be disposed of by a simple _Avada Kedavra _casting. The run down dwelling sat nuzzled between a trickling stream and a high cliff in the heart of a thick forest. It had been in disrepair for years and wasn't even thought to be in existence. It was long forgotten. Surely, one could come and go without being disturbed or detected. Its roof had collapsed and ivy crept up its stony remains of what was once sturdy wall. The hooded figure made a noise of disgust and swept into the empty building.

The form quickly moved passed the broken pottery and filthy furnishings to the corner of the single room to a wide mouth fire place and began the preparations for a fire. In a matter of seconds a fire blazed in the dusty hearth. The crimson flames suddenly flashed emerald and the shadow stepped through. The world seemed to spin but the silent, cloaked individual felt no anxiety. At last, it seemed, she arrived.

She emerged from the fire place into a dim dungeon chamber. A heavy, four post, oak bed hid in the corner; a cauldron in the other. Beside a grand bookcase filledwith potionand dark arts books and loose parchmentwas a desk which its occupant made no acknowledgement regarding the strange phenomenon of a person strutting out of a hot, burning fire. He hovered over numerous pieces of parchment. His long, greasy hair curtained his face so that it was obscured and made him a nearly completely black smudge in the room, yet would have blended with its dark ambiance.

The woman pulled her hood way from her pale face, liberating her streaming, blonde hair. She took a step forward toward the hooked nosed man. "Severus, I have come."

"Come? 'Come' is for those who have the free will to come and go. You, rather, have arrived." he sneered.

Biting her tongue for the stinging words she could only wish to throw at him, she spoke, "Be it as it may, I am here to pay my debt."

"Indeed you shall…in time."

"What do you mean?" She was perplexed at this. A clear expression of confusion was strewn across her face.

"You want your son to live, do you not, Narcissa? When you came to me, you knew what it was that you were asking for. Now, you must repay me. I'm going through an awful lot of trouble for you. This is the least you can do." He raised his sallow face to meet her tearful gaze. He smirked at her apparent pain.

"How can you make such a demand! My husband rots in Azkaban! My son will surely be killed!" She nearly burst into tears. Her shoulders shook as she fought to keep control. Snape drifted toward her. He steeredher to the bed by her shouldersand removed her cloak. He stroked her cheek and looked into her eyes. She attempted to look away but he brought her face back to his. He began to kiss her neck and she closed her eyes, anticipating her retched fate.


	8. Fire

The Sickness

Narcissa slowly eased into waking the next morning. Her senses were dulled. Without opening her eyes, she extended her arm to touch the cold, depressed pillow beside her. The touch seemed to drive a crack into the dam of repression and a flood of memories sufficated her morning buzz. She felt like crying. Her throat was tight. She fought to keep control. She didn't know if she was alone or not. The night before she could not believe. Snape had wanted her. He undressed her and kissed her with such lust it would make her feel filthy. She remembered the feeling of his large hand running over her chest. She lifted her opposite hand to her breast as to disperse the phantom. _He had stopped_, she thought. The conversation had gently drifted back into her conciousness.

"I can't do this..." he whispered. Severus averted his eyes from her bearness while handing her her strewn garments. Narcissa clutched the wrinkled fabric against her body to cover her shame. "I--I'm sorry, Cissy..." She only stared at him with tears and scorn. " You don't deserve this," he began. "It's just...It's just that...I've loved you. I've loved you since we walked the halls of this horrid school for our mediocre educations. I saw the oppurtunity and..."

"Don't call me by that name," she forced through gritted teeth.

"Cissy, please..."

"I said 'don't call me that name'!" she screeched.

"Narcissa, I-- please--" he began to plead. He attempted an embrace to calm her down.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" She raised her hand and flew it across his face. A loud cracking sound broke the air into silence; a fleeting silence. With down-casted eyes, Severus stood from his kneeling position beside the bed and slowly walked to his desk. She watched him. Before he could sit, she was over come by a violent fit of hot tears. She held nothing back.

That was all that she could remember. Her eyes shot open. She bolted upright. She was still in Snapes room; in his bed; topless. Snape was at his desk; his head down. Narcissa threw on her clothes as quietly as possible. Her feet lightly brushed against the cold stone floor as she quickened her pace for the fire place. She threw a pinch of floo powder into the red tongues. She tried to jump into the inviting green dancers of the hearth but Severus's cold hand held her back. Without words, she struggled against him but he turned her to face him. She couldn't look at him in the eye as he attempted to do.

"I'll do whatever it takes to help your son." His voice cracked as he knew this would be the last time he could ever speak civil words with this creature of white. He looked her over. Her streaming, blonde hair was contorted about her slender frame. Her eyes were red from crying. He could even smell the salt of those tears. She shook with what Snape could not fathom. The look of this broken woman broke his pathetic heart. He hated himself for what he had done to the woman he loved. Knowing it could never be the same, he let her go. He let her go into those flames; those flames that can never be doused; flames he had set alight around her. His eyes stung at the sight of her departure. He fell to his knees infront of the burning of her pain; her red hot flames. He hung his head between his palms. He rubbed his wet shame from his eyes for hours that morning. When he finally lifted his gleeming face to the dying fire, he raised his wand to the mocking embers. Water spewed from the tip, choking the taunts of the fire. Snape stood infront of the blackened fireplace with his shaking arm before him. He shot a descusted look at the soot. He hated it. He hated that black. He hated this man in black. Now there was nothing. Nothing remained in him but the hate of himself. He could never burn with anything other than hate; as well as the fire place. From that day, no fire graced his hearth.


	9. An End

(A/N) I'm sorry, I hate author notes, if it is I can be called an author, but I would just like to inform all spelling and grammar nazis that I've been using "WordPad" which doesn't have spellcheck or my other good buddy, grammarcheck, because my new computer doesn't have Word. I will surely miss thee, oh gracious duo.

The Sickness

Over the next few days, Ron's anger had not seemed to ebb in the slightest bit. Hermione tried all she could to help him but he would only explode in her face. _It has to be Quidditch,_ she thought. The first game was coming up and Ron was beginning to have doubts. He became quite the beast. Harry did anything he thought would get Ron to play at his top game but it seemed to only make matters worse. He never noticed, as it was that he was being grumpy and surly with Hermione. The moring of the big match, Ron was miserable. Harry came upon a stroke of inspiration; it was last hope. He glanced around. Hermione had hesitated to come down to breakfast with them because of Ron's unpleasant behavior. As Hermione was lightly stepping her way to the great hall, two fingers rapped her shoulders. She whipped around to face the owner of the fingers. Before her stood a Ravenclaw prefect.

"What have I done?" she gasped.

"What? Oh, nothing. Nothing," he shook his head. "Hermione, are you serious about me?"

"What the HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" she raised her voice but he quickly silenced her and pulled her behind a statue. "Let go of me!"

"Hermione, please! I need to know."

"Need to know what? What are you talking about? Have you gone mad! I don't even know you!"

"Don't play like that. If you're serious I have to know. I don't want our relationship to just be a way to releave ourselves. I want committment too."

"Excuse me? I have no idea what you are talking about. Get away from me psycho." Hermione ran away from the brown haired boy with a pounding heart. _What the hell was that all about? Was he coming on to me? Was that a horrible practical joke!_ Her mind was going a mile a minute. She found the boys and tried to act natural when approaching the huge breakfast table. She never wanted the two to know about that crazy prefect. "How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head. She had remembered his unpleasentness.

"Fine," Harry said while handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."

"Don't drink that, Ron!" said Hermione sharply just as Ron had the glass raised to his lips.She had seen Harry tip something into Ron's drink. Harry pretended not to understand Hermione's accusations.

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!"

"Stop bossing me around, Hermione," he said after draining his glass in one gulp.

After a few terse words, Hermione stormed away. _What the hell is his problem! Bossing him around! Argh! He's such a pick! How did I ever find anything in that lug!_ Hermione was fuming during the entire match. She could careless if the team did any good. _Of course Ron is doing great._ she thought. She shot her angry eyes at Harry. _What a cheater. I can't believe him._ The match seemed a blur. Harry had finally caught the snitch and won it for Gryffindor. Ginny ran her broom into the commentator's podium, straight at Zacharias. _Ha! That's what he deserves!_ Hermione laughed along with many other Gryffindors. The house was in such a frenzy. Of course there was going to be a party. Before Hermione turned back to the common room, she entered the changing room where she knew only Ron and Harry were.

"I want a word with you, Harry," she said as she wrung her scarf in her hands. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron. This drove a small nail into Hermione's already tattered heart.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry.

Ignoring her pain, Hermione went on shrilly, "You know perfectly well what we're talking about! You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

Harry had turned to them to show his broad, grinning face. He hadn't slipped the golden liquid into Ron's juice. He even flashed the potion to prove it. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself." he said to Ron.

Ron was astonished and gaped for a moment then turned to Hermione. In a mocking tone: "_You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything!_ See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"

Offended and on the verge of tears, Hermione retorted: "I never said you couldn't -- Ron, _you_ thought you'd been given it too!" But Ron had already strutted past her and out of the changing room. Harry was uncertain on what to say; he didn't expect his plan to backfire like this. He weakly suggested to go to the party. The tears had finally come. "You go! I'm _sick_ of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done..." Hermione stormed out of the changing room. _What could I have done?_ she began. _What did I do? How did things come to this? I know we were never the best couple but I really think it's almost over. I have to think of some way to repair this relationship._ Their bridge was crumbling. Hermione used all the mortor she could but it did nothing to stabelize the decaying bridge. She was so deep in her ponderings that her feet led the way back to the castle. _Could nothing save us? Would it be better if we just went back to being friends? No, it would never be the same._ This realization crashed a new wave of tears. _It can't end like this! I won't give up! All good things take time and effort. We'll pull through. But what if he get tired of me?_ New fears shot through her. She then hurried back to the common room. Perhaps she could get there before Ron and doll herself up. With every step, a new idea popped into her mind. _I could wear my hair like that...Oh! I could wear this...YES! We'll be happy yet!_ Finally satisfied with a potential ansamble, Hermione climbed into the portrait hole. No sooner had she rested her second foot she saw them. In the corner of the crowded room, Ron and Lavender Brown were so tightly wrapped around the other that it was impossible to tell which arms belonged to whom. Hermione had no time to think. She didn't know what to do anymore. She knew that all she had to do was get out of there; stumbling out the the portrait hole and into the first unlocked class room she could find. She had no time for tears. She was completely numb. Unconsciously, she transfigured a few things on the professor's desk into fat yellow birds. The yellow things circled her overhead as she slumped on to the desk. She had little time to think by herself for Harry soon followed her.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said brittly. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah...they're -- er--really good..." he managed to get out.

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations," she said in an unnaturally high vioce. There was little exchange before Ron came laughing and pulling Lavender in by the hand. They stopped short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.

"Oops." Lavender slipped out of the room giggling. Her high pitched girl giggle annoyed Hermione, as though it were mocking her; Lavender mocked her. The laughter ecoed in the thick silence of the spacious room. This was it. The bridge was now completely demolished. There was no turning back. A madness came over Hermione. She felt like nothing was left. There were no tears now; there was only a vindictive urge. _It doesn't matter anymore! Ha! I wasted all this time!_ She ridgedly walked toward the door. She tried to leave with dignity but the revenge won out.

"_Oppugno!_" she shrieked. Her flock of birds began attacking Ron. Every bit of exposed skin was pecked and clawed at. Ron's struggling yelps could be heard as Hermione walked out of the door.

_So, that's it. There is nothing left for me there. It's all over. To hell with him! I thought...I thought I loved him...I thought he loved me..._ Her stoic heart could no longer hold its own. She cried. She didn't care who was around. She cried as she walked through the halls. She didn't know where her feet were leading her but she didn't care anymore. She kept walking, all the while rivers flowed. Finally, she was tired. She was tired of walking. She was tired of the tears. She was tired of all the drama. She was tired of everything. She slumped against the cold stone wall. It soothed her. It was a great contrast to her hot face. Her legs gave out and she began to fall. _Maybe my head will hit the ground and it will burst open..._ She could imagine it: her skull cracking against the coble hallway. Instead of blood seaping out, her head was full of spiders. She began to laugh. _Spiders...for Ron...all the spiders on the world...all for him...in my head..._ Before her head could really smash agaist the cruel stones, a hand had caught her. She could feel the sturdy, broad hand of a man on her back. She attempted to turn and look at her hero but she was too weak. In his arms she blacked out.


	10. Legilimency

The Sickness

It was hot. Hermione couldn't catch her breath. It was like she was in a fernous in the middle of the iciest winter. She tossed her head back and forth to try to shake off this dreadful heat. Every way she turned was the burn. There was no visible source. All there was was an abyss of black. _I'm so thirsty._ There was no end to the heat. _Stop it. _It grew hotter. _Stop it!_ Her chest was burning. _STOP IT!_ The sensation spread to every inch of her body until there was only pain. She tried to hold on. _No. No. It can't. I won't let it!_ She fought for what felt like ages. Tears twinkled in her eyes. _I can't hold on anymore. I can't do it alone._ She let go. She had given up. The invisible fire began to tear her appart when, out of darkness, a cold hand fell upon her forhead, cooling her; soothing her. The touch seemed to heal her. Her pain lifted from her. In the darkness she knew that everything was all right. There would be no reason for the afflictive heat to torture her again. The cold hand saved her from complete destruction. She smiled and took a deep breath before opening her eyes to her saviour. Her breath left her with a wail. The face looming infront of her was unexpected and close in addition to belonging to someone most unpleasent. Snape's cold, black eyes penetrated her through the curtens of his greasey black hair in his crouching possion abover her. She sat up quickly. The two would have smashed forheads if Snape hadn't backed up; still staring. The way he stared at her made her shiver. She had never seen a look like this in his eyes. It was alarming. Not knowing what to do, Hermione returned his stare. They beheld each other for a long while before Snape lowered himself to sit on the cold stone floor of his Defence Against the Dark Art's class room with a sigh.

"At least your lungs work..." he mumbled.

"Professor? Um... What time is it?"

"Past your bed time," he sneered. It didn't sound like one of his normal remarks. It sounded forced. There was something unnatural about it.

"Well, uh...um...Thank you Professor Snape." She stood and headed for the door.

"Miss Granger, do you know an Alex Drury?" He called after her.

She stopped but kept her back to him. _Wasn't he that crazy one from this morning?_ "All I know is that he's a Ravenclaw prefect."

"Then it must be so..." he said softly. There was silence. Hermione didn't know if she was free to leave but the uncomfortable atmosphere of the room pushed her out of the door. She ran all the way to the second floor until she was out of breath. She leaned forward heaving. Snape looked insane. _Why was he so funny?_

"Hermione?" a vioce drifted. She pulled herself upright. "Hermione, here." He handed her a small glittering box topped with a soft pink bow. "I was completely out of line this morning and I hope you could forgive me." She looked into his face. It was that crazy prefect. _Speak of the devil._ she smirked. "W-what?"

Hermione regained herself, "Oh, nothing. Just thinking. Um, Alex, it's getting kind of late and I don't want to get caught after hours...So, um...I guess I forgive you and I'll just-- Hey! What were you talking about this morning?" She looked at Alex's reddening face.

"Yes, Alex, What were you telling his dashing young lady?" A lanky, dirty blonde haired boy came up behind Hermione's bushy head.

"Marcus? What are you doing here?" Alex looked a little weary.

"Oh, you know. Just taking a midnight stroll. Looking for some interesting people. And look! There you are!" He snickered, inclining his head toward Hermione. He caught a glimpse of the silvery package. "What's in the box?"

"Well," Hermione began as she lifted the corner of the folded wrapping.

"Nothing you need to know about, Marcus!" Alex said sternly.

"OH. O.K. Ha. It is, after all, your business." Marcus pretended to look uninterested. "Anyway, I forgot to introduce my self." He took Hermione's hand to kiss with a bow. "I am Master Marcus Moon of Ravenclaw. I have heard much of you upon the wind; of your knowledge, of your courage, of your pleasures," he winked. "The only shame is that you do not belong to the honorable house of Ravenclaw." Alex just rolled his eyes.

"Charmed," she played along. She gave him an exaggerated curtsey. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I'll be going."

"Speaking of going, it reminds me. You can't go. I planned a little something special. Where are those douchebags?" Marcus set his face in a scowl and rubbed his chin in a comical way. "Ah! Here they come now!"

A/N: Ok, so, I've decided to discontinue the fic. I'm tired of it now. Do you want to know what happens? Do you want to know the symbolism of the first paragraph of this chapter? Do you want to know how Hermione and Snape hook up? You want to know why Hermione is pregnant? Well, I'll tell you right now:

Snape catches Hermione. He takes her to his classroom and gives her truth serum so when she wakes up, she wouldn't lie about being out of her house common room so late. She is asleep longer than he expected, so he begins performing legilimency upon her ("reading" her mind: HP5).

The darkness signafies life. We don't know where we are in it or where we are going. Hermione is being tormented emotionally and mentally by her situation. This is what she is feeling while Snape is "reading" her mind through legilimency. Because she cannot remember the rape or the nightly encounters with Alex, it hurts. Eventually, when all seems lost, someone saves her, someone with cold hands. But do not be fooled, it will not be Snape. This also foreshadows the end of the fic.

What's happenning here is that Moon is trying to hook up with Hermione because he thinks she's easy. The present for Hermione was a good bye gift from Alex; a home pregnancy test. However:

After Snape read Hermione's mind, he felt bad for her and guilty because he almost took advantage of Mrs. Malfoy. It was ironic that he came across Hermione at that point. He wants to look after her; protect her.

Snape goes to look for Hermione and sees Alex with her. Knowing what Alex had been doing, he is over come with anger. He attacks him and threatens him to never talk to Hermione again. The "gift" is forgotten. She becomes interested in Snape. He won't answer her when she asks why he did it, so she tries to warm up to him to try and get him to tell her; forgetting all about Ron. This goes on until about Christmas.

During this time, Lavender has secretly seen Hermione and Alex together late at night and now Hermione and Snape being all buddy-buddy. She thinks it would be funny to get Hermione a muggle home pregnancy test for Christmas. She is completely clueless so she just takes it as a really bad joke. She tests herself for fun. That is how she finds out she is pregnant (beginning of fic). She freaks out. She goes to Snape. He is now a friend and she wants a more accurate test done (potion). She turns out to be really pregnant. Snape tells her about all of it; what had happened to her. The reason she couldn't remember sleeping with Alex is because Malfoy put a really bad memory earasing charm on her. Her sub-consious mind was making her relive that night but, instead of finding Malfoy, she came across Alex. She doesn't know who the father is. She is is in such a shock. She doesn't know what to do. She begins to cry. Snape, feeling incredible pitty and sympothy, lies to her, saying he has fallen in love with her. He vows to help her with the baby and anything else. She has no other choice but to accept. She couldn't tell anyone.

Throughout the rest of the year, she and Snape grow closer. They learn to love each other. Ron doesn't know what to do about their ex-relationship. He screwed it up and he was beginning to feel embarrassed and ashamed. He could hardly talk to Hermione. After some snooping around, he finds about Hermione being pregnant. However, he doesn't know about the incident with Malfoy or Alex. He thinks the baby is Snape's.

However, as we remember from the 6th book, Snape kills the Headmaster...sniff. This brings everything crashing down. Hermione thought she could be happy with Snape but then he commits murder. She has no more tears to shed for herself. She feels like she can never be happy again. After everything is settled (end of HP6), the three-some is about to head home on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione is standing against a radient sundown looking upon the lake, alone. A stoney expression on her face. Ron comes from behind her.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. For everything I did and for...Snape. I'm sorry," He begins.

"Ha," She still looks indifferent.

"I can't imagine the difficutly of the situation you are in."

"Well, happiness isn't made for everybody."

"Don't say that."

"Ah."

"Hermione, I want to help you. I...love you. I've always loved you. I'm...just...a huge jackass. I'm so sorry for hurting you. I will do anything for you. Please, take me back. I want to be with you, and only you, forever. I want to be apart of your life and the baby's life. I will always be here for you. I want you to be happy...with me. Even if you can't forgive me, at least let me help you with the baby. I'll do anything."

She begins to laugh. The laughs turn into sobs. Ron takes her into his arms. They embrace until Hermione controls her crying. Then, Ron, with his arm around her shoulder, leads the way to the train.


End file.
